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It happens when they're in the middle of a fight. They have done this many times before. Too many, maybe. Heartbreaker has been spotted near the city center, and it falls to Xavier and her to apprehend the Wanderer. It's not a hard job, not by a long shot—Heartbreaker isn't particularly strong, just annoyingly persistent.
Maybe it's because they have fought Heartbreaker too many times and have grown a little overconfident. Or maybe it's just bad luck. But either way, when she goes to attack the Wanderer, Heartbreaker throws one of its letters toward her. The letter bursts into a spray of glittering dust, and she breathes some of it in before she can cover her mouth.
"What—" she coughs, stumbling back. "What was that?"
Xavier is there, catching her before she falls. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she says. "Just give me a moment. I—"
She stops. A strange sensation has come over her. Her body feels hot, then cold. There's a fluttering sensation in her chest. Her vision is getting blurry, but she can see the way the light plays off his hair. The strands glow like threads of silver. How had she never noticed that before?
He frowns. "What's wrong?"
She blinks up at him, her heart racing. She can't find the words. All she can think about is how pretty he is.
"I—" She shakes her head, trying to clear it. "I don't know. I feel... strange."
His brow furrows in concern. He reaches out and touches her forehead. His hand is cool against her skin. She leans into his touch, and he draws back, startled.
"You're burning up," he says.
She tugs at the collar of her jacket, feeling suddenly stifled.
"Heartbreaker?" she manages to ask. "Where is it?"
He glances around, scanning the area.
"It's gone," he says. "I'll send word to the Association. You need to get checked out."
"I'm fine," she insists, her fingers undoing the top buttons of her shirt. Why is it so hot? "Just let me rest for a moment."
Xavier catches her wrist before she can undo the next button. She looks up and sees him staring at her, his cheeks flushed.
"Please stop doing that," he says, releasing her.
She lets her hand drop to her side, feeling suddenly foolish.
"I'm sorry," she says. "I'm just—it's too hot. I can't... think straight."
She stumbles, and he steadies her again. She leans against him instinctively, resting her cheek against his chest. He smells good. Clean and fresh despite the fact that they have been chasing Heartbreaker all morning. How does he manage that?
"I think I should take you to the hospital," he says. "That Wanderer did something to you. We need to find out what."
She shakes her head, clinging to him. Her hands clutch the fabric of his jacket. She wants to stay close to him, as close as possible. It feels like if she lets go of him, she will die. Or float away. She isn't sure which. Everything is fuzzy except the feel of him. Solid, steady. Handsome.
She has always thought he was handsome, but now she feels like she could drown in the beauty of his face. The sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the way his blue eyes seem to glow. He is perfect. Absolutely perfect.
She tilts her head back, looking up at him. His gaze meets hers, and he swallows hard.
"What?" he asks.
"You're beautiful," she whispers.
He blinks. "What?"
"I said, you're beautiful."
He takes a step back, pulling away from her. She stumbles, her balance unsteady. She almost falls, but he catches her again.
"You're not thinking clearly," he says, his voice tight. "Whatever that Wanderer did to you, it's messing with your head."
She shakes her head, reaching for him. She wants to touch him, to peel away his clothes layer by layer and discover the secrets hidden beneath his cool exterior. She wants to poke and prod and see what makes him tick. She wants to make him blush, make him moan, make him lose control.
"I've never been more clearheaded," she breathes, running a hand through her hair. She tugs on the strands, trying to clear the fog from her brain. "I just need— I need some air."
"We're outside," he points out.
"I need more air," she insists, pulling her uniform jacket open. There's too many layers, too much fabric. She's burning up. Sweat drips down her spine.
She tugs at the buttons of her shirt, needing to feel the cool air on her bare skin. She's only got it halfway unbuttoned when he catches her hands again, stilling her.
"Stop," he says, his voice firm. "You're not well."
"I'm fine," she pants, squirming against him. He's so strong. It's infuriating. "Let go of me."
"No," he says. "If you keep stripping in the middle of the street, you're going to get arrested."
"I don't care," she gasps. "I'm so hot. I can't breathe. I can't—"
Her words cut off with a strangled cry as a wave of desire sweeps through her. Her thighs press together. Arousal pools in her belly, liquid and hot. She feels herself getting wet. It's maddening. She's never been so turned on in her life.
"What's wrong?" he asks, alarm coloring his voice. "Are you hurt?"
"No," she moans. "It's... I'm..."
Her cheeks are flaming. She can't bring herself to say the words. Not out loud. Another wave of desire crashes over her, and she lets out a low, keening noise. Her knees buckle, and he catches her.
"We need to get you to a hospital," he says, his voice strained. "Now."
"No," she protests, shaking her head. "I'm not sick. I'm— I'm—"
Her hips buck involuntarily, and she bites back a curse. She's never felt like this before. So out of control. So desperate. It's like she's burning from the inside out.
"Please," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I need— I need—"
She doesn't know how to finish the sentence. She doesn't know what she needs. Just that he is the only one who can give it to her.
"I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong," he says.
She closes her eyes, unable to meet his gaze. She feels his hands on her, steady and strong. She imagines those hands on other parts of her body. Touching her, caressing her, bringing her pleasure. Heat floods her core. She is aching for him.
"Please," she begs, clutching his jacket. "Please, I need you. I need—"
She can't bring herself to say the words. Instead, she leans forward and presses her lips to his. It's a clumsy, desperate kiss, but it sends a thrill through her nonetheless. His lips are soft and warm. He tastes like everything she's ever wanted.
Xavier goes stiff, his body going rigid against her. He pulls away, his eyes wide.
"What are you doing?" he demands, sounding scandalized.
"Kissing you," she pants, pressing herself against him. She rubs her body against his, desperate for friction. "Don't you want to kiss me back?"
He swallows hard. His eyes drop to her lips. She can see the indecision written all over his face. He wants to kiss her. She can tell.
"This isn't the time or place," he says, his voice thick. "You're not yourself. You've been affected by some kind of Wanderer toxin. We need to get you help."
"You are helping me," she insists, rubbing her cheek against his chest. He lets out a shaky breath. "You're all I need. Just touch me. Please. I'll die if you don't."
His hand comes up, brushing a lock of hair out of her face. His fingers trail down her cheek, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She shivers.
"You're burning up," he says softly. "Your skin is on fire."
She leans into his touch, craving more. He cups her cheek, his thumb stroking her jaw. Her breath hitches.
"Is this better?" he asks.
"Not enough," she whimpers. "More."
She grabs his hand, sliding it down her throat, between her breasts. His palm is rough, his fingers long. She imagines what they would feel like inside her, stroking her, filling her. Her skin is slick with sweat, her nipples straining against the fabric of her shirt. His hand keeps moving, sliding down her belly, lower, lower...
He pulls his hand away.
"We can't," he says, his voice low and pained. "Not like this. We're in public. You're not in a state to consent. I can't do this to you."
She groans, frustration and desire warring within her. She pushes him away, stumbling backwards. Tears of anger and shame sting her eyes.
"Fine," she spits. "If you won't touch me, I'll find someone who will."
She turns and starts walking away, her legs trembling. She hears him calling after her, but she doesn't stop. She can't. She's burning up, her whole body consumed by lust. She needs release.
She spots a man leaning against a nearby wall. He's tall and muscular, with dark hair and a five o'clock shadow. He's not nearly as handsome as Xavier, but he'll do. Anything will do at this point.
"Hey," she says, her voice husky with desire. "Wanna fuck?"
The man raises an eyebrow. "What?"
Xavier follows her, catching her arm.
"Don't listen to her," he tells the stranger. "She's sick."
"Damn, and here I was hoping she was serious," the guy replies, giving her an appreciative look.
Xavier glares at him, pulling her behind his back.
"Leave. Now," he orders, his voice cold.
The guy puts his hands up in a placating gesture.
"All right, all right," he says. "I can take a hint."
He turns and walks away, glancing over his shoulder once at her. She licks her lips, considering, but Xavier blocks her view.
"Don't," he warns.
She scowls at him.
"It's none of your business," she snaps. "I can fuck whoever I want."
His jaw clenches, but he doesn't reply. Instead, he takes her hand and pulls her away from the stranger, down a side street. She stumbles after him, her mind still hazy with lust.
"Where are we going?" she asks, her voice breathless.
"Away," he says, not looking at her.
She struggles to keep up with his long strides.
"Away where?"
He doesn't respond.
They turn a corner, and suddenly, he is pushing her up against a wall, his lips crashing down on hers. She gasps, surprised, but then his tongue is in her mouth, and she forgets how to think. He tastes like mint and something else, something dark and intoxicating. She moans into the kiss, her hands coming up to tangle in his hair. It's just as soft as she imagined.
Xavier pulls away, his eyes dark with desire.
"You really would've let that guy touch you?" he breathes, pressing his forehead against hers. "If I hadn't stopped you, you would've just… slept with some random stranger?"
"I need it," she pants, grinding against him. "You don't understand. I need it so bad. It hurts. If you won't touch me, I have to find someone who will or I'm going to go crazy. Please, please, please—"
He kisses her again, his hands sliding under her shirt. His palms are rough, calloused. He strokes her skin, his fingers tracing the curve of her ribs, the swell of her breasts. She arches into him, wanting more.
His lips move to her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. She shudders, heat coiling low in her belly. Her hands are in his hair, her nails scraping his scalp. She tugs on the strands, and he growls, nipping at her throat.
His fingers find her nipples, pinching them through the fabric of her bra. She cries out, pleasure lancing through her. She's never been this sensitive before, this responsive. Every touch feels amplified, like an electric shock.
He pulls back, his eyes dark and wild.
"Tell me what you want," he demands, his voice rough.
She doesn't know how to put it into words. All she knows is that she needs him, needs him more than she's ever needed anything.
"Touch me," she begs, grabbing his hand and placing it between her legs. "Please, I can't take it anymore."
He hesitates for a moment, his expression torn. Then, slowly, his fingers slide under the hem of her skirt. They brush against her soaked underwear, and she gasps, bucking against his hand.
"You're soaked," he murmurs, almost to himself.
She doesn't reply, too lost in sensation to speak. His fingers move aside the fabric, sliding along her slick folds. She moans, her head falling back against the wall. His fingers are so big, so strong.
His thumb brushes against her clit, and she sees stars. It's the lightest of touches, but it sends a bolt of pleasure through her.
"Oh, God," she gasps, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
He covers her mouth with his free hand, silencing her.
"We have to be quiet," he murmurs, his breath hot against her ear. "Someone will hear."
She nods, whimpering. She'll agree to anything if it means he'll keep touching her.
His fingers slide inside her, filling her, stretching her. She writhes against him, her legs trembling. It feels so good, too good.
"So tight," he murmurs, pumping his fingers in and out.
His thumb circles her clit, sending sparks of pleasure through her. Her eyes roll back in her head, and she clutches at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. Her moans are mufffled by his hand, her breath hot against his palm.
His fingers curl inside her, hitting a spot that makes her vision blur. Her orgasm hits her like a wave, crashing over her and leaving her breathless.
Her knees give out, but he catches her, holding her upright. His eyes are dark, his breathing heavy.
"Better?" he asks, his voice a low rumble.
She shakes her head, biting her lip.
"Not enough," she breathes.
His eyes narrow.
"What do you mean, not enough?"
She reaches down, tugging his hand out from between her legs. She brings it up to her face, sucking his fingers clean. He groans, his eyes fluttering closed. She releases his hand, reaching for his belt.
"Give me more," she demands, her voice ragged. "I want everything."
His eyes fly open, his hands grabbing hers.
"No," he says.
Her eyes narrow.
"Why not?"
"I can't— This isn't—"
He stumbles over his words, and she realizes that he's as affected as she is.
"You want this too," she accuses. "Don't deny it."
He lets out a shuddering breath.
"Yes, I want you," he says, his voice strained. "But this isn't right. We're not— I'm not going to take you against a wall in some filthy alley, like you're some kind of cheap—"
She cuts him off with a kiss. Her teeth sink into his lower lip, making him hiss. His grip on her tightens, his fingers digging into her hips.
"I don't care," she breathes, trailing kisses down his jaw. "I just want you."
His resolve is crumbling. She can feel it.
"Please," she begs, nipping at his throat. "Just once. I need you. You can pretend it never happened. Pretend it was just a dream."
He makes a strangled noise. His fingers dig into her skin, hard enough to bruise.
"I won't be able to," he gasps. "That's the problem."
She presses her body against his, feeling his arousal.
"You're a good man," she says, her lips brushing against his ear. "You wouldn't let me suffer like this, would you? Not when there's something you could do to help."
His breath is hot on her skin. She can feel him wavering.
"I don't want it to be like this," he says, his voice cracking. "What if you regret it later? What if… What if you hate me?"
"I won't," she promises. "I could never hate you. Just please, please, give me what I need. Make me feel good. I'm going crazy. I need to feel you inside me. Please."
His resolve finally crumbles. He kisses her, fierce and hungry. His tongue invades her mouth, claiming her. His hands slide under her skirt, his fingers finding the waistband of her underwear. He tears them off in one smooth motion. She gasps, surprised and aroused.
He lifts her up, pressing her against the wall. She wraps her legs around his waist, her hands clutching at his shoulders. She can feel his arousal, hard and thick, straining against his pants. She rubs herself against him, moaning.
He reaches down, unzipping his pants. She feels his cock, hot and hard, against her inner thigh.
"You're sure?" he asks, his voice rough.
"Yes," she breathes. "I've never been more sure of anything."
He kisses her again, deep and passionate, as he slides into her. She cries out, muffled by his mouth, her nails digging into his shoulders. He is so big, stretching her, filling her. Pleasure, sharp and overwhelming, radiates through her. She arches against him, her back scraping against the rough brick wall.
He thrusts into her, slow and deep, and she bites her lip to keep from crying out. His hands hoist her higher, changing the angle, allowing him to go even deeper.
She throws her head back, her eyes squeezed shut. She's never felt anything like this before. It's like her whole body is on fire, consumed by pleasure. Each stroke sends a jolt of ecstasy through her, building and building until she's sure she can't take anymore.
She comes with a strangled cry, burying her face in his shoulder to drown out her moans. Her whole body trembles, her walls clenching around him. He thrusts into her through her orgasm, drawing out a cascade of aftershocks that leave her trembling.
Xavier kisses her shoulder, her throat, her jaw. He's still rock hard inside her. His pace quickens, his fingers digging into her ass.
"You're so tight," he groans, his voice strained.
She bites his shoulder, muffling a whimper.
"I need more," she gasps. "It's not enough."
He growls, slamming her against the wall.
"Then I'll give you more," he says. "As much as you can take."
She cries out, his thrusts driving the air from her lungs. It's too much, too intense. And yet, it's not enough. She needs more. Always more.
She grabs his face, forcing him to look at her.
"Give me all of you," she demands, her voice raw. "Don't hold back."
His eyes widen, and she can see the struggle in them. But his desire wins out, and he leans forward, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. His tongue invades her mouth, claiming her, and she surrenders. His hands tighten on her hips, and he thrusts into her, hitting a spot that makes her see stars. She breaks the kiss, her head falling back against the wall. He takes the opportunity to nip at her throat, his teeth scraping her skin.
"Don't stop," she gasps, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Whatever you do, never stop."
He chuckles, his breath hot against her neck.
"Wasn't planning to," he says, his voice husky.
His cock slides against her inner walls, rubbing against her most sensitive spots. He hits a spot deep inside her that makes her shudder, her eyes rolling back in her head.
His pace quickens, his strokes short and hard. His cock hits that spot over and over, until she's trembling, teetering on the edge of release.
"I'm— I'm—" she tries to say, but the words are swallowed by a moan.
He silences her with a kiss, his tongue invading her mouth. She sucks on it, tasting him, feeling his arousal. Her orgasm hits her, washing over her like a wave, and her cry is swallowed by his mouth. He keeps thrusting, drawing out her pleasure, until she's a quivering mess.
"More," she begs, her voice barely above a whisper.
He growls, pulling out of her. Before she can protest, he turns her around, pressing her face-first against the wall. His hands grasp her hips, lifting her off the ground. She feels the tip of his cock, hot and hard, pressing against her entrance.
"You asked for it," he says, his voice rough with desire.
"Yes," she breathes, bracing herself.
He thrusts into her, filling her completely. She bites her forearm to hold back a scream. He is so big, so hard, stretching her to her limits. It's almost painful, but in the best way possible.
He pulls out, only to slam into her again, hitting a spot that makes her eyes roll back in her head. Her thighs are slick with her juices, dripping down her legs.
His fingers dig into her hips, holding her steady as he pounds into her. The wall is rough against her cheek, her palms scraped raw from the friction.
He reaches up, tangling his fingers in her hair and pulling her head back. She gasps, pain mingling with pleasure. He pulls her head back, kissing her hard. His teeth scrape her bottom lip, his tongue invading her mouth. It's a brutal, dominating kiss, and it sends a shiver down her spine.
His other hand snakes around her waist, sliding between her legs. He finds her clit, his fingers rubbing the sensitive bud. She moans, the sound muffled by his mouth.
"That's it," he murmurs against her lips.
Her knees buckle, but his hand holds her up, his grip firm and unyielding. He strokes her, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles.
She writhes against him, her eyes closed, her whole body shuddering. It's too much, and not enough, and she wants to scream with the pleasure of it.
"Come for me," he says, his voice low and demanding.
She shatters, her orgasm tearing through her. Her screams are swallowed by his mouth, her body convulsing in his arms.
He keeps stroking her, drawing out her pleasure until she's limp and boneless, her muscles turned to liquid. Finally, he lets her go, and she sags against the wall, panting.
"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice soft and concerned, so different from the rough desire of earlier.
She turns her head, meeting his gaze. He looks worried, almost frightened. As if he's afraid of what he might have done to her.
"Yes," she says, her voice hoarse. "Never better."
He exhales, relief evident on his face. He bends down, gently kissing her shoulder.
"I didn't mean to be so rough," he says, his voice low. "I don't know what came over me."
"Don't apologize," she says. "I wanted it. I needed it."
She pushes away from the wall, turning to face him. Xavier is a sight, his pants pulled down, his shirt half untucked, his hair messy. She's probably just as disheveled, her skirt rucked up around her hips, her shirt hanging open, her bra shoved aside.
"I'm sorry," he repeats, reaching out to straighten her clothing. His touch is gentle, careful. It's a stark contrast to how rough he was a few moments ago, and it makes her chest ache. "I'll try to do better next time."
Next time.
The words send a thrill through her. Next time. She wants a next time, and a time after that. She wants a thousand next times.
Xavier helps her adjust her clothing, smoothing her rumpled skirt and fastening the buttons of her shirt. He tucks his own shirt into his pants, then runs a hand through his hair. He looks almost composed again, though there's a hint of a flush in his cheeks.
"Do you... Do you feel better now?" he asks, his voice hesitant.
She takes stock of herself, noting the lack of heat beneath her skin, the absence of the restless energy that's plagued her since she got affected by the drug. infected. The hunger is still there, a low burn in the pit of her stomach, but it's has nothing to do with the drug and everything to do with the man standing in front of her.
"Not quite," she says, taking a step towards him. Xavier swallows, his throat bobbing. He watches her warily, almost as if she were a wild animal. A predator. The thought sends a thrill through her, and she moves closer, until there's only a breath of space between them. "I think I might need a little more help. If you're willing, that is."
He inhales sharply, his eyes darkening.
"Of course," he murmurs. "Whatever you need."
His hand lifts, his fingertips ghosting along her jawline. She closes her eyes, savoring the sensation. It's so much better than before, when she couldn't feel anything but the drug's burning need. Xavier's touch is light, careful. Gentle.
"But we should find somewhere else," he says, his voice low. "Somewhere private."
They leave the alley, returning to the street. People walk past them, oblivious to the fact that they just fucked in an alley. They look like they're coming back from a mission. There are scratches on her hands, her clothes are rumpled, and her hair is a mess. Her skin is covered with sweat and dust. Xavier looks slightly better, but only just.
Xavier's car is parked a few blocks away. He drives quickly, navigating the streets with ease. He knows this city better than anyone.
The car pulls up to an apartment building. It's one of the nicer ones, tall and sleek, with a doorman who nods politely as they enter. Xavier leads her to the elevator, and they ride up in silence. The tension is palpable, and she wonders if he regrets what happened in the alley.
The elevator doors open, and they step into the hallway. Xavier fishes a key out of his pocket and unlocks the door. They step inside, and he flips on the light.
It's a large apartment, sparsely furnished. The walls are white, the furniture black. There's a kitchen area, a living room, and a hallway that leads to the bedroom and bathroom.
Xavier walks to the kitchen, filling a glass of water. He hands it to her, and she gulps it down. Her throat is dry after all the... exertion.
He takes the glass, refilling it and handing it back. She drinks more slowly, watching him over the rim.
"Do you want something to eat?" he asks, opening the fridge.
She shakes her head. Food is the last thing on her mind.
He closes the fridge, leaning against the counter. He seems uncomfortable, unsure of what to do or say. It's a far cry from the confident, commanding man she just saw in the alley. But then again, she's not the same woman she was then either. She's not driven mad by the drug's effects. She's herself, clear-headed and focused on him. Xavier's gaze flickers to her, then away.
"We don't have to," she says, breaking the silence. "We can just talk."
"Talk?" His eyebrows shoot up, and a smile tugs at his lips. "After what we just did?"
She shrugs, leaning back against the counter. Xavier is close enough to touch, and she has to resist the urge to reach out.
"If you're not interested, that's fine," she says, her tone nonchalant. Inside, though, nerves are churning in her gut.
Xavier runs a hand through his hair, the movement jerky.
"I didn't say that," he mutters.
He looks... embarrassed.
"Then what's the problem?" she asks, tilting her head to the side. "Why the sudden hesitation? You seemed pretty eager in the alley."
His cheeks flush, and he looks away.
"You were going to sleep with a stranger," he says, crossing his arms over his chest. "What was I supposed to do, let it happen?"
"I didn't ask you to intervene," she points out.
"Well, I did."
"Because you wanted to help me," she says, moving closer. He stiffens, but doesn't move away. "Or was it because you didn't want someone else to have me?"
He swallows, his throat bobbing.
"Does it matter?" he asks.
"I think it does."
She stops, only a few inches away. She's close enough to feel his warmth, to smell the lingering scent of his cologne. It's a woodsy, masculine scent, and it makes her head spin.
"Why did you agree to help me?" she asks.
His gaze drops to her lips, and his fingers twitch, as if he's fighting the urge to reach out.
"Because it's you," he says, his voice soft.
"So you do care," she says, pleased.
"Of course I care," he replies, sounding almost offended.
She leans forward, resting her hand on his chest.
"How much?" she asks, her voice low.
He sucks in a breath, his eyes wide.
"You're not... You're not still under the influence of the drug, are you?"
She laughs, shaking her head.
"No, I'm not," she says. "It's gone."
He visibly relaxes, some of the tension leaving his body.
"And are you... are you still okay with this?" he asks, gesturing between them.
"Very okay," she says, her voice a low purr.
"Good," he breathes, closing the distance between them.
His lips are soft and warm, and she melts into the kiss, her arms looping around his neck. His hands come up to cup her face, and the gesture is so tender, so gentle, that it makes her heart ache.
They stumble toward the bedroom, their lips never parting. They collapse onto the bed, a tangle of limbs. Xavier breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down her jaw, her throat, her collarbone. She tilts her head back, her eyes fluttering shut.
His hands roam her body, exploring every inch of her. He undresses her slowly, carefully, as if he's unwrapping a precious gift.
The cool air hits her skin, and she shivers, goosebumps rising. Xavier's mouth follows the path his hands blazed, tracing her bare skin with his tongue. She moans, her fingers tangling in his hair.
"I want you," she gasps, arching into his touch.
He lifts his head, his gaze locking with hers. His eyes are dark with want, his lips parted.
"Say it again," he murmurs, his voice thick.
"I want you," she repeats, running her fingers through his hair. "All of you."
"God," he groans, his head pressinng against her chest. "You have no idea what you do to me."
"Xavier," she says, tugging at his shirt. "Clothes. Off."
He obeys, peeling off his shirt. He tosses it aside, revealing his muscled torso. She runs her hands over his chest, his abs, his shoulders. She marvels at his beauty, at the hard lines and sculpted planes of his body.
Xavier leans down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. She opens for him, welcoming his tongue, tasting him. His hands slide down her sides, coming to rest on her hips. He squeezes, eliciting a moan from her.
"Are you sure about this?" he asks, his voice a husky whisper. "Once we start, I don't think I'll be able to stop."
She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
"I'm sure," she breathes, nipping his lower lip. "Now, shut up and fuck me."
Xavier growls, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. He kisses her, hard and deep, his tongue invading her mouth.
His hand find her wrists, pinning them above her head. She moans, arching into him. His lips travel down her throat, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Heat pools in her belly, her arousal building with each touch, each caress.
Xavier's free hand travel lower, exploring her body. He cups her breasts, teasing her nipples. She squirms, desperate for more.
He kisses her, silencing her moan. His hands roam her body, his fingers slipping between her thighs. He finds her clit, rubbing slow circles. She gasps, her eyes fluttering shut.
"Mmm... So wet," he murmurs, nipping her earlobe. "Is this for me?"
"Yes," she breathes. "Only you."
"Good." He nips her throat, his fingers working her clit. "Because I don't want anyone else to see you like this."
His words send a thrill through her. He's jealous, possessive. She saw that version of him in the alley, when he'd stopped her from having sex with a stranger. He didn't want her to give herself to someone else. He wanted her for himself. And he'd shown her exactly what that looked like when he'd pinned her against the wall, taking her in a brutal, primal display of possession.
But now, he's different. He's more in control, his movements careful, almost reverent. His touch is gentle, teasing.
Xavier's fingers dip lower, brushing her entrance. She shudders, her hips bucking. He slips a finger inside, then another, slowly stretching her. She writhes against him, her eyes clenched shut.
"More," she begs, arching her back. "Need more."
"Soon," he murmurs, kissing her jaw. "I want to savor this."
He thrusts his fingers in and out, his thumb circling her clit. It's too much and not enough, and she moans, her fingers clenching into fists above her head. Xavier's hand tightens around her wrists, reminding her of his strength, his power.
"Xavier," she pleads.
"Not yet," he says, adding a third finger.
The stretch is delicious, sending waves of pleasure through her body. Her toes curl, sparks igniting behind her eyelids. She's close, so close. His fingers curl inside her, hitting a spot that makes her vision go white.
"Ah!" she cries out, her hips bucking.
"That's it," he croons, his lips ghosting along her jaw. "Come for me, my love."
His words are all she needs. She comes, her body spasming, her muscles clenching. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over her, leaving her trembling and boneless.
Xavier eases his fingers out of her, licking them clean.
"Delicious," he murmurs, his gaze locking with hers.
She whimpers, the sound soft and needy. He's barely touched her, and already, she's desperate for more.
He releases her wrists, sliding his hands down her sides. His fingers dance over her skin, eliciting a shudder. She can feel the heat radiating off him, his body pressed against hers.
Xavier's lips trail down her neck, his teeth grazing her collarbone. He leaves a mark, branding her. She's his, and he wants the whole world to know.
Her hands find his back, her nails digging into his skin. He growls, the sound sending a shiver down her spine.
He reaches between them, undoing his belt. He shoves his pants down, freeing his cock. It's hard and thick, and she bites her lip, her eyes drinking him in.
"Are you ready?" he asks, brushing her hair from her face.
He's asking for permission. Despite the hunger in his eyes, the tension in his muscles, he's holding back. Giving her time.
"Yes," she breathes, her eyes locked with his. "Please."
He grips his cock, stroking it slowly. Her gaze is drawn to the movement, her breath hitching. God, he's so beautiful like this. His body is a work of art, every inch of him carved from marble. But his face is what takes her breath away. He's usually so calm, so controlled. But right now, his expression is a mask of pure desire. His lips are parted, his eyes hooded. He looks like he's about to devour her.
Xavier positions his cock at her entrance, his gaze never leaving hers.
"Last chance to back out," he says, his voice low and strained.
"Don't you dare," she breathes, reaching up to grip his hair and yank him down for a bruising kiss.
He surges forward, sheathing himself inside her with one swift thrust. He swallows her cry, his tongue delving into her mouth.
He fills her completely, stretching her. It's a delicious burn, and she wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
"So tight," he mutters, breaking the kiss. "So perfect."
"Move," she commands, her nails digging into his back.
He obeys, drawing back and slamming into her. He sets a relentless pace, fucking her hard and deep. She clings to him, her fingers tangled in his hair, drawing him closer. Their lips meet in a fierce kiss, and she loses herself in the sensation, her world narrowed to his lips on hers, his cock buried inside her. Everything else fades away, and there's nothing but the two of them, joined together.
Xavier breaks the kiss, his breath hot against her ear.
"I'm not going to last long," he mutters, his voice strained. "Not with you wrapped around me like this."
She tightens her grip on him, pulling him closer. He's so deep, filling her completely. It's overwhelming, and she gasps, her eyes squeezing shut.
"Don't stop," she breathes, her hips moving in time with his. "God, don't stop."
"Couldn't even if I wanted to," he mutters, his lips ghosting along her throat. "You feel too good."
He sucks her earlobe into his mouth, nipping the sensitive flesh. It's an almost painful pleasure, and she arches her back, her head pressing into the pillows.
Xavier's hands slide under her, his fingers gripping her ass. He lifts her, changing the angle.
"Ngh!" she gasps, her eyes flying open. "There! Right there!"
Xavier's gaze locks with hers, and the intensity in his eyes sends a shiver down her spine.
"Are you going to come for me again?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous.
"Yes," she breathes. "God, yes."
His fingers dig into her ass, pulling her closer. His cock hits her in just the right spot, and she cries out, her vision blurring.
He fucks her hard and deep, his breathing ragged. She can feel his control slipping, and it's intoxicating. To see him like this, wild and unhinged. To know that she's the one doing this to him.
Xavier's pace is merciless, and she loses herself in the sensations, her mind going blank. There's nothing but him, and her, and the feeling of him buried deep inside her.
The pressure builds, coiling low in her belly. She's so close, hovering on the edge. All it takes is one last thrust, and she falls, her orgasm washing over her in a tidal wave of pleasure.
Xavier growls, his grip tightening. He pounds into her, chasing his own release. His eyes squeeze shut, his muscles tensing.
"I'm going to come," he gasps, his voice ragged. "Where do you want it?"
She blinks, her mind foggy with pleasure. It takes her a moment to understand his question.
"Inside," she whispers, her gaze locked with his. "I want you to come inside me."
He groans, his eyes slamming shut. He thrusts once, twice, then stills, his cock pulsing inside her. She can feel him spilling into her, the heat of his release mingling with her own. It's an intensely intimate sensation, and she holds him close, her nails digging into his skin.
Xavier collapses against her, his forehead pressed against her shoulder. His chest heaves, his breathing ragged. She runs her fingers through his hair, tracing the contours of his face. His features are a familiar map, and she traces the lines, the planes, committing them to memory.
"You're staring," he murmurs, his lips brushing her skin.
"Can't help it," she replies, her tone light. "You're too pretty."
He makes a face, and she laughs, the sound echoing in the dim room.
"Not used to being called 'pretty'?" she asks, running her fingers through his hair.
"No."
He lifts his head, propping himself up on his elbows. His gaze is intense, his blue eyes dark with emotion.
"What?" she asks, her eyebrows knitting together.
"You're beautiful," he says, his voice low. "Have I told you that before?"
She laughs, the sound soft and amused.
"You may have mentioned it once or twice," she replies, her eyes dancing with mirth.
Xavier reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.
"Well, it bears repeating," he murmurs, his fingertips ghosting along her cheek. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
"You're just saying that because you want to sleep with me again," she teases, tugging lightly on his hair.
"That's not true," he replies, catching her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm. "Although I certainly wouldn't object to the idea."
"Mm, well, you'll have to wait a bit," she says, stifling a yawn. "I'm not as young as I used to be."
Xavier laughs, the sound vibrating through her.
"I'll be patient," he promises, kissing her wrist.
He shifts, his weight settling against her. She closes her eyes, letting the warmth of his body wash over her. It's an intoxicating sensation, and she finds herself drifting, her exhaustion catching up with her.
"Sleep," he murmurs, brushing his lips against her forehead.
She hums, her mind foggy. The world is starting to fade, her consciousness slipping away.
"Don't go," she mumbles, her fingers tangling in his hair.
"Never," he whispers.
And with that, she drifts off, safe and content in his arms.